Befoul one's own nest
by SallyCarefree
Summary: Neal plays a double game. Peter is mad as hell and arrests Neal. Neal runs and the whole FBI is after him. But Neal's a con man. What's the story behind all this ? Is their frienship ruined? Read and find out. Hurt, comfort, shameless and repeated Neal whump.


Peter Burke slammed the telephone receiver down. Bursting with anger, he left his office and stormed downstairs where Neal Caffrey was lingering at the desk of an FBI agent, drinking coffee and chatting.

Burke grabbed Caffrey's lapel and pushed him against the office wall. "You lying, treacherous, ungrateful son of a bitch."

Neal stared at him in disbelief. "Are you insane? That hurt. And you've ruined my shirt, coffee is spilled all over!"

His handler was almost shouting. "Don't you dare playing the innocent! I've just got the confirmation that you've been hiding the alarm plans, building layout, and security policies from the upcoming exhibition of the Borgia treasure in your apartment. These are confidential Bureau documents. Why would you store them under your plank flooring? Guess what else they've found: a high class false passport."

By now, all of the agents have stopped working and were looking at the two men, listening to the quarrel. "You've sneaked into my apartment and searched it?" Neal couldn't believe this.

"I didn't sneak in. That's more your style. I've got a proper search warrant and sent a team. Now, show me what's in your pocket!"

The con men raised his hands and tried to brush of his handler's hands and turned away in anger. "Leave me alone."

The FBI agent pushed the raised arms away and reached for the inside of Caffrey's jacket. He fished out a small packet. After taking a look at it - he punched his fist hard into the younger man's jaw.

Neal's head dashed against the wall, and he squalled in pain. Blood was running down his nose, his lip was bleeding, too. The punched part of his face was flaming red. Everyone could see how hard it was for him to restrain from fighting back. "Look Peter, it's not what it looks like. I can explain ..."

Burke wasn't willing to listen. "Yeah, I know you can explain everything. Save your breath. You can do your explaining to the judge in the hearing. He might be interested why you'd carry a wax mould of the keys to the exhibition center. And I would take any bet that you spied on the pin code the curator had keyed in when we've been there. I'm pretty sure your criminal mastermind can recall it without any problems.

As for me, I don't care anymore. I'm done with you. After all the chances the White Collar division has given to you, after all I've done for you, you've betrayed that trust regardless of the consequences. Just to make some profit." He threw him a look of pure disgust.

Neal didn't say anything but looked embarrassed. Peter turned and headed back to his office. "Jones, cuff him! Do it carefully. We don't want to lose him. I get my keys and then we're giving him an escort back to prison." There was a bleak smile on his face.

Jones couldn't believe his ears. "Peter, don't you think..."

He was cut short. "No. He has crossed a line, and there is no going back. He's out." Jones and Diana exchanged looks. They've never seen their boss so furious and determined. Despite hearing the evidences against the consultant, they could hardly believe it. He was a convicted criminal, that was true, but they had worked together as a team for years - and he'd saved their lives more than once, and they had saved his in return.

Diana became exasperated with the consultant. She handed him a tissue to wipe the blood. "Neal, what have you done? Tell me that Peter is wrong!"

Only, he CI remained silent and cast his eyes down. He wiped his face clean, but his look was still disturbing.

Jones hesitated, but finally did as Peter had ordered. He cuffed Neal's hands behind his back and locked the cuffs tightly. But as he did so he was careful not to hurt the already battered consultant any further.

Neal was thinking about the last time Peter had arrested him. That had been quite different. Fowler had framed him, and his handler had tried his best to make the arrest as unflashy as possible without humiliating him. That courtesy wasn't given him today.

The three men were going down in the elevator to the parking garage in deafening silence. Peter and Neal both stony-faced, whereas Jones looked still bewildered. None of them spoke a word while they climbed into the car, Jones next to the convict in the back seat. They remained silent while they were heading for state prison.

They were caught in a traffic jam downtown on a bridge when Peter started to dial to talk to his wife over the hands-free device. "Hi hon. What would you say if we'd take the weekend off and go to visit Boston?"

El sounded surprised. "Honey, that would be great. But what about your concerns regarding Neal and that your presence might be needed if he's up to one of his shenanigans?"

"Well, I can assure you these are none of my problems anymore."

His wife sounded appalled. "Oh no! So your suspicions proved true? Neal has planned the heist?"

Since they were talking over the hands free, everyone in the car was listening to their conversation. Neal clenched his teeth. Jones stared at his boss unbelievingly.

It was exactly that moment of distraction Caffrey used to break free. He slipped out of the cuffs, knocked his elbow into Jones' windpipe and clutched the agent's gun. It took him only a couple of seconds to open the door and jump out of the car.

Jones still gasped for breath while his boss unbuckled the seat belt and rushed out. He didn't run after the fleeing suspect but pulled his weapon, aimed and shot.

Caffrey yelled in pain and stumbled. Apparently, his leg was hit. Nevertheless, he climbed on a railing and jumped down the other side.

When the FBI agent finally reached the railing, he could see only heavy traffic driving below. Probably, the fugitive had jumped on top of one of the trucks and made a disappearing act. Peter sweared vilely. "Jones. Call the Bureau. We need to find Caffrey. He's wounded. There's a trail of blood on the street and railing. He can't be travelling fast and might look for medical aid. Get me an arrest warrant for Mozzie, too. We don't want to take any more risks here.

Back at the Bureau, Burke stormed into Hughes' office. When he came out again, he made a speech. "Listen everyone! Neal Caffrey is on the run. He has stolen confidential intel on a priceless exhibition of Italian medieval jewelry. We need to find him before he commits a crime that would reflect back on our division. Everyone puts his current assignment on hold and works on the Caffrey task force."

Agent Ruiz had entered the office. "Burke, finally your wonder boy has turned you down. Should I feign surprise?" The agent from organized crime division chuckled. "Need a hand here to find the wayward son?"

Peter was swallowing his pride. "You're welcome. Join the team. We take every help we could get."

Ruiz asked the obvious question. "What about his anklet, shouldn't be a problem to locate him?"

"He cut it, no tracking data. And we found his mobile phone on the roadside. Therefore, that's no help either." Burke fumed.

Ruiz took a seat at Caffrey's deserted desk and started to scan the huge file Peter Burke had compiled on the convicted felon over the years. He took in every detail. It might be helpful to find the fugitive. He actually enjoyed the situation. Ruiz detested the cocky felon and had never been fond of Burke either. This disaster would wreck Burke's career. Finding Neal Caffrey would offer lots of appealing options for himself.

Neal used the brand new burner phone he'd purchased. "Hey Moz. I need your help. Things didn't work out well. I'm injured."

His friend was confused. "What about your handler. Isn't he the one who usually takes care of these mishaps?"

The fleeing suspect winced in pain. "The suits are no option any longer. That chapter's closed. We have to go into hiding. They might be looking into you, too. You have to dump the phone. Where are you?"

Mozzie didn't waste any time with superfluous questions. "Safe house. Thursday."

Of course, Neal knew where to find Thursday. He was glad when he reached the house without spotting any FBI agent. He collapsed exhausted on one of the sofas in the sitting room. The leg injury proved to be only a graze wound. But still, it hurt enormously and Neal couldn't walk without limping, let alone running or climbing. Mozzie rendered first aid, cleaned and bandaged the wound. "I take it our plan remains unchanged?"

"Sure thing! We go ahead with it and stay the course. I have to go. Take care!" He left the gun he had pulled from Jones with his friend. After all, he didn't like guns. He'd taken it to ensure Jones wasn't using it against him. It was already dark when Neal exited the house. He'd checked for any police presence before he opened the door. The scene seemed to be clear, so he stepped out.

Only then, he noticed the man lurking in the dead spot behind the door. It was a split second too late. Neal went to the ground as the man was kicking his injured leg hard several times, and he shrieked of sheer pain. The con man felt the blood gushing from the wound. His leg hurt like hell.

"Neal Caffrey. Nice to meet you again. I've talked to your handler. He didn't seem too fond of his pet convict right now. In fact, the whole FBI and the Marshals are looking for you right now." Ruiz planted himself threateningly above the criminal and sneered.

The injured man looked up and struggled to sit up and rest his back against the wall. "Ruiz? You're here to arrest me, on your own? Where's your back up?" He had difficulties to focus. By now, his left eye was swollen from Peter's punch earlier on.

Ruiz obviously savored the situation. "From my point of view, it doesn't look like I would need back up. I could shoot you and no-one would blame me." He had drawn his gun and pointed playfully in Neal's direction. "But, I have something else in mind... I have the strong feeling that you need a new partner, now with Burke having deserted you.

I've made quite some money with inside knowledge from the Bureau, so far. But I could need some help to cash it and run future stings. That's where you come in. Plus, there is the Borgia exhibition to rob. As chance would have it, I came across this wax mould for the keys. They were stored in Burke's desk after he took them from you. And I guess you can still recall the security details and building layout, and of course, the pin code to unlock the vault. If we'll team up that would be great, wouldn't it?"

Neal wasn't convinced. "Why should I trust you or work together with you?"

Ruiz pondered on the question raised. "Hm. Where do I start... Burke must have hit your head hard because you hadn't been so slow minded before he punched you right in the face. To begin with, if you should refuse to work with me, I can kill you. Or if I should not want to waste a bullet on you, I can hand you over to the law enforcement, and you will rot in jail for ever and a day. Apart from that, how would you carry out the heist on your own, with a blackened eye, an injured leg and a broken arm?"

"I can still see clearly enough, my leg will heal in no time, and my arm is just fine. No need to worry" The ex-consultant tried to stand up to face Ruiz when the latter slammed the butt of his gun with full force on Neal's arm. "Ups, I guess now it's broken. Look, I must have psychic powers! I can scry the future." He grinned maliciously.

The CI winced in pain and held his arm. Tears shot to his eyes – which was terribly embarrassing, but he couldn't help it. They were streaming down his face. It seemed as if this whole plan ran out of control. He radiated an air of despair.

Then suddenly, they were surrounded by FBY agents in full armor.

"FBI. Drop your gun. Now. Hands in the air." Ruiz was confused and tried to save his skin. "Hey, I've almost arrested the fleeing suspect. He tried to attack. You came right in time for support."

Hughes came forward. "Agent Ruiz, you're under arrest. We've got the whole conversation recorded on video tape. I didn't want to believe it has been you, selling FBI intel on the market. But I've been proved wrong. You're a traitor. Still, I'm glad it hasn't been someone within my own team.

It became certain beyond doubt when you pulled Haversham's phone data and left the office with the piece of evidence you stole from Burke's desk without further notice."

Ruiz weighed the odds, but the number of armed agents around him was overwhelming. Accordingly, he decided to surrender, dropped the gun, and raised his hands over the head. He threw a killing glance at Caffrey. "We're not done yet. Someday, I'll make you pay for this."

Peter was already kneeling besides his partner on the pavement. "Neal, how are you?"

"Well, I'll live. The leg wound is only a gash." It was obvious that he was still in severe pain. "But why on earth did you hit when you fired at me. That hasn't been the plan."

Peter looked guilty. "Come on, you ran when you were supposed to stand still. It's not easy to take accurate aim if your target is running zigzag through all those cars, jamming on the bridge."

Neal shrugged. "Staying put wasn't my first instinct when a furious FBI agent was pointing his gun at me, ready to pull the trigger!"

Peter was troubled. "I'm so sorry Neal. I didn't want to hurt you."

The injured man attempted at a smile of pity. "I guess you'll know the real meaning of being 'sorry' after June will be finished with you. And El. They won't be amused ..."

His handler paled a little because he knew that was true. Both women would fuss over the injured and suffering consultant. And he, of course, would have to take all the blame. But still, he was glad that his partner was well enough to tease him. That meant he probably wasn't in a life-threatening condition.

His handler stopped Neal when he tried to stand up. "Just wait and sit. The medics are on their way. You're not going anywhere right now. Take my coat, the street is just too cold to be seated on the ground." He took off his coat and placed it underneath this friend.

Jones joined them bearing an inquiring look on his face. "I guess you don't want me to cuff Caffrey anymore, right? What's this all about? I've thought we're here to catch him."

Peter let him in on the original plan. "We've suspected for a while that there's been a mole in the Bureau. It must have been one of our agents, but we couldn't identify him. Then, Hughes came up with the idea for this operation. He made it very clear that none of the agents will be let into the secret mission. I've never suspected you or Diana to be the backstabber. But Hughes had laid down the rules, and that left me no choice."

"Never mind. It was a bit awkward when you manhandled Caffrey. If that's how you deal with a partner, I really don't want to get on your bad side... Only, I could have done without him getting at my throat."

Now, it was Neal's turn to feel guilty. "Oh, I'm so sorry about that. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I had to make an exit somehow."

Jones chuckled. "There was no damage done. I played football in college. A regular training session caused more pain than your tackle on the back seat. Allthough, I was quite angry that you caught me off guard."

The consultant started to pout. "Peter, what you did was really insulting. That stung!"

His handler had no clue what offence he's been accused of. "What are you talking about?"

"You unlocked my handcuffs and didn't even lock the car doors. That's been insulting. Even though, I'm working for the FBI for quite a while now, I haven't lost all my skills or my sleight of hand. I don't need your help for such an easy task. Where's the fun in getting rid of handcuffs if they aren't locked?"

Burke rolled his eyes. His consultant was annoying at times. He would have missed him dreadfully if something had happened to him. He didn't even want to think about the dangers this operation had threatened upon Caffrey - who hadn't hesitated to agree to the plan Hughes had suggested. Perhaps it had been the prospect to run a con on FBI agents, but Peter surmised Neal's motives were of a more unselfish nature. He probably did it to support his handler.

Peter was glad when the paramedics finally arrived. They took care of the injured man right away. One of them confirmed that the arm was probably broken, but they would have to take X-rays at the hospital to make sure.

Peter tried to cheer Neal up. One had to admit that cheering up people were none of his key strength... "It's only your left arm, and the joint is unharmed. You'll still be able to paint. After a few weeks, you've forgotten that it's been broken at all. Until then, you'll assume only light duty, some cold cases."

Neal was already sitting in the ambulance and seemed to be shocked. "I don't deserve desk confinement, being bored to death by mortgage frauds. I could still ask Mozzie for the weapon I've left with him, and make my way out at gunpoint. Come on, you can't do this to me. I haven't deserved it."

His handler smiled. "Don't worry it won't be only the desk. The surveillance van will be there for you, too. Speaking of Mozzie, where is he? I'd have expected, he wouldn't have missed the spectacle of getting a Fed arrested."

"Mozzie? There are too many Feds and Marshalls around for his liking. I guess he's waiting inside until he gets the all-clear signal.

Listen, Peter, there is something else ... What you said earlier on, over the phone to El... You don't have to stay around for me. I'm hardly in a state to get into trouble. You can take the weekend off, I won't let you down. I promise."

Peter frowned and put his hand on Neal's back comfortingly. "No way. I hate Boston. El makes me joining her on endless shopping trips and museum tours, and we have to meet all her old college friends whom I have nothing in common with. Elisabeth knows that taking care of you is just a lame excuse I stress whenever I want to wriggle out of a weekend engagement. Moreover, if you think that she'll be leaving town while you're sitting at home with a broken arm and a wounded leg you're suffering from loss of reality. She'll probably make me delivering homemade chicken soup and cupcakes to you all weekend."

Neal smiled. "What about her Gelato?"

"You want your bread buttered on both sides, you greedy good-for-nothing." But his smile proved him a liar. Agent Burke couldn't conceal his unreserved relief that Neal wasn't hurt seriously, and their partnership was still intact. And so was Neal.

#########

AN:

I've just found this in my file system. I wrote it quite a while ago. It's a bit antiqued because Ruiz was season 1. But now, since I do nothing else but re-run old seasons - they still haven't released the s4 dvd ! - it didn't seem too bad to me. I hope you've enjoyed it.

Only a very confused person would assume that I own anything from WC. Therefore, a disclaimer isn't really necessary.


End file.
